Fire & Ice
by Niloriel1701
Summary: Hermione and Pansy share a lovely night together. Short and sweet, Hermione's POV. Could be a follow up, maybe? FemSlash.


**It is Hermione's POV. I really enjoyed this little ficcy. It was really easy to write because it just seemed to come to me. I hope you enjoy it. I can do a little morning-after diddy if you want it. But you have to let me know. Please R&R! I love you guys! **

**-Nil**

I brought the rim of the warming bottle of firewhiskey to my flushed lips, and took a vast swig of the stuff.

It sizzled its way down my throat and heated up my insides nicely. I felt a small smile quirking at my mouth.

There I was, sitting in my dorm, feeling as pissed as I'd ever been – smiling to myself, mind you – in a complete mess of a life.

The idea of studying tonight was highly unappealing and what good would it really do, when I was feeling this way? Down and out, so to speak. Rather useless, and a might reckless as well.

My body was humming, and tingly. I enjoyed this feeling, and it was new. Somehow the bizarre, racy thoughts that I was having were free to roam in a giddy, rule-free segment of my mind.

Screw Ron. In fact, screw Harry as well. The blokes were never really there for me, after all. I was the "pillar" of the three of us. What would the bastards do without me, realistically? And did I ever really get any credit? No such luck.

I stumbled towards the portrait, letting the bottle tumble to the floor, ¼ full and a small amount of the golden liquid spilling on the rug. I found it particularly funny, and began to giggle quietly.

The hallways were empty, and cool. I found my way down several staircases, until I wasn't entirely sure where I was. Perhaps the castle was sending me somewhere. I hadn't the slightest spatial awareness.

My eyes swept across the floors, looking for something that I could not quite grasp. A sudden seriousness settled down in my heart and I began to take slow, relatively steady steps, keeping my head lifted in a dignified manner.

"Mmm." I breathed in slowly, enjoying the familiar smell surrounding me.

There was a moving thing, many meters ahead of me, a dark shape. Perhaps it was a ghost. Or maybe it was a… ghoul? I laughed to myself once more.

"Is…someone there?" I said.

The shape began to form a person. A girl. Her footfalls were delicate and lovely. Yes – they were indeed lovely. A lovely little sound. Was it always the case that alcohol brought out the stranger parts of us?

As the girl approached, her footsteps slowed. It was Pansy. The lighting was dim, but not dim enough to obscure the endearing features of the raven haired Slytherin.

I looked at the small, upturned nose and the pursed set of rosy lips. The dark brown eyes were delightful looking, chocolate… rum and – spice?

"How…lo-vely!" I said in what I hoped was an affectionate tone.

"What…Granger? What are you doing down here?" Pansy looked perplexed.

And suddenly I remembered something that I hadn't known I'd forgotten.

"Why… I came looking for you, of course." I reached my hand out and the darkness engulfed it as I found the soft material of Pansy's shirt.

"Are you alright? You seem a bit…" Pansy sidestepped my hand, letting it fall back to my side.

I felt rejected. But – she would see. She would understand. Perhaps I just needed to…spell it out for her.

"But…I came looking for you, Pansy. You see, l-lately, I suppose I've realized what I want. You know, in life. That sort of thing." Was I explaining myself properly? Could she understand what I was trying to say?

She folded her arms across her chest, and flicked her eyes upwards, I supposed as a sign of irritation.

"I just want… someone to care. I want – someone to love me. But… softly, you understand?" I exhaled, and put my hand up to the wall to steady myself. I was trying to tell her. I was trying to explain.

"Granger, are you drunk?" Pansy's brown eyes remained hard.

I smiled, knowing that my cheeks were flushed and that I smelled of the stuff. It gave me a new perspective, a new surge of daring.

"You know, I'm a virgin!" I blurted out, putting one of my small hands to my mouth abashedly.

"And… I need to know this because…"

I stepped into the light, and grasped Pansy's wrist. We were very close. I felt the warm tingling return, and I didn't say anything for a few minutes. I breathed in, and I marveled at the smell of a girl. It was quite… satiating.

"Pansy, will you…you know-" I slid my hand up her arm gently, hoping my gesture would be enough.

She cocked her eyebrow and sighed, indicating that she didn't, perhaps, understand.

"Well…I was thinking…" I brought my face a little closer to hers. I wasn't entirely sure how to do these things. She appeared to be paralyzed. I wasn't sure why, really. I was just trying to explain it to her.

"-I would really like to have sex with you."

In my dazed, happily fuzzy mind, it made perfect sense. After all – I liked her. I thought she had pretty eyes, and lovely hands. And esthetically pleasing breasts…and I often thought of her on my own – and… and wasn't that why people _had_ sex? I wasn't entirely sure, because I hadn't had sex before. But I did know that I wanted to have sex with Pansy. So, why couldn't we just have sex?

"-h-have…" Pansy neither moved away from me, nor moved closer to me. Her eyes were very wide. I liked them like that – it made me feel pleased that I was able to make them widen. I never made Ron's eyes widen. Or Victors.

"Maybe it's a bit easier if we kiss - y-you know. Isn't that the first…bit?" I wasn't exactly nervous. In fact I felt steadier than I ever had before engaging in such activities. I felt as though I was commandeering it. _Yes._ I was initiating it. And it made my stomach flutter with excitement.

Pansy's eyes softened.

"Granger… you must be drunk out of your… what on earth are you…" Several weak mumbles were made, and although they were mumbles of protest, the taller Slytherin stood exactly where she was and made no move to reject me.

I smiled, slowly bringing my lips to hers, and brought a silence to the mumbling. My mouth was moist, and still tasted of the firewhiskey. Hers… was…

My stomach lurched with sexual excitement. I traced her bottom lip with my tongue, and a part of me was surprised that her mouth opened eagerly for me.

I was riding on a wave of giddiness. Our noses touched, and I noticed, dizzily, that her eyes were shut. I decided I would shut mine too.

Was this what a real kiss felt like? It was never like this with Victor. It was never this…sexual, and…soft.

I felt a hand gliding up my waist and before I knew it, it was perched on my breast. Under my button up, starchy white shirt and relatively plain bra, my nipples hardened. So _this_ was what a real kiss felt like.

Why hadn't I ever had this? I certainly didn't know what I was missing.

I broke apart from her, my breathing a little shallow. It was time to be very frank.

"I…like you. And you make me feel very…_hic_!" A small hiccup arose from inside me and I swayed backwards a little. A strong hand had me from behind before I was able to stumble.

Before I could fall down.

I locked eyes with the girl facing me. My mind became a little bit less foggy than it had previously been.

"I cant believe I'm… ah, Granger?" Pansy used her hand to press me closer. "D'you want to come back to the…to my - dorm?"

Yes, I did. I, without a single shadow of a doubt, wanted to do so. I wanted to give myself over to Pansy. I wanted to be caught, not dropped. I wanted to be loved, softly. Not loved as the standby.

"I…would love-" I began to mumble, fixating on the hem of her shirt.

Her arm now slid around my waist, and I relaxed in her secure grip. She began to lead me down the hall.

It felt as if it were seconds before we were in Pansy's private room, facing one another, fingers brushing across lips, noses, necks. Admiring each others features in the soft lighting. I still felt the warm buzz of the firewhiskey, but felt considerably more sober – or perhaps it was my sense of determination and purpose.

We stepped close to one another, and I slid my hands into hers, interlacing our fingers. She nudged me backwards until the soft covers of her four poster bed (it was larger than most of ours, mind you) brushed against the backs of my thighs. Without thinking, but simply taking cues from her body language, I sat down slowly and began to scoot myself backwards.

Her torso situated between my legs, her gentle hands began to unbutton my shirt. She smelled of vanilla and jasmine. Like…dessert. Did all girls smell this good? Perhaps I hadn't noticed before. Boys smelled nothing like what I was now inhaling with vigor.

I sat, a small smile dancing upon my lips, and watched her slowly disassemble my uniform.

All the while, she gave small, shy little glances up at me – as if expecting my appraisal of her handiwork. I felt special.

I slid my hand under her chin and tugged her gently towards me, kissing her eyelids, her upturned nose, her cool forehead and lastly her divine, parted set of lips.

Her hands now moved faster, and she tore my shirt down my shoulders. Her fingers immediately found the back of my bra and avidly undid the clasps.

Our lips did not break apart, and I found that my body began to move underneath her own. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was just…me.

My breasts were exposed, and I realized only then that no one had seen this much of me - _ever._

We grappled with various articles of clothing until we were both in a state of undress. Her hands found every curvature of my body like no others had. They traced delicate lines along my skin that made my hair stand on end.

My cheeks flushed even more as Pansy's mouth found my breast. There was a fire lapping inside of me. Her tongue was skillful. I wondered for a moment if she had been with a girl before – like this.

"H-have you…" She stopped at my words and trailed her tongue along my collarbone and up my neck. "-done this? With – a girl I mean." She stopped at my ear, and her hot breath only fueled the fire that was already brewing inside of me.

"You are the first, Granger." Her voice was huskier than I had ever heard it before. I was…_the first. _As she was to me.

I admired her black lashes.

I watched her hand trail down my body with curiosity, and then her fingers found me in a new way – not like anything I had ever felt before. She was - in me. She began to move her hand slowly. Rhythmically. It felt – well, brilliant.

So… _this _was sex.

And then – as if, upon the realization that I was experiencing a life changing epitome, her eyes raised to meet my own and with each movement of her hand, our gaze became more and more intent upon holding. If I had ever before experienced a moment so intense, It was not apparent.

Her fingers hit a point, an unmistakable point, inside of me and I began to writhe beseechingly. Her soft hips ground against me, and despite my delirious fog of pleasure, I dug my nails into her, imploring her to do something – anything, that would keep this feeling from disappearing. She went deeper, and faster and my writhing became bucking.

The room became unstable, and this time I knew it wasn't the alcohol. I was making sounds that were unprecedented.

I put a warm hand up to her face to find that she was cool to the touch – much cooler than me, evidently. Her raven hair was unkempt, and it was perfect.

"Pans…"

It was unspoken. I released a low moan, threading my fingers through her hair and pulling her head towards me.

I pressed my mouth to her cool, porcelain neck and muffled my orgasm amidst her vanilla scented skin.

I began to coax her with my own fingers – aiding her grinding motions, and in several minutes she to was forced to quiet herself by placing her lips over mine, the deep sound reverberating into my mouth.

She withdrew her hand from me, dripping now, and put her dainty fingers in her mouth to taste her victory. I gripped her wrist, my hand trembling, and proceeded to put her fingers into my own mouth, licking them with deliberation.

She brushed my hand aside and we shared a lingering kiss. Our limbs were tangled on the four poster of the warm dorm room. The wall sconce gave flickering shadows that danced across our damp skin. Our fingers were entwined tightly.

"Careful now, Granger – I might not let anyone else have my Gryffindor lioness…" Pansy's forehead had a light sheen of sweat, and her eyes sparkled as she said spoke, but no sign of humor was present in her expression.

My stomach fluttered. _Hers. _

"Well I…might not want them to."

There could be no sheets between us, and we stayed tangled up in the dizzying warmth of the night time until we both fell asleep. Like fire and ice.


End file.
